17. Damian

17

Apiercing scream slices through the somber gathering like a knife.

My head whips toward the sound, eyes widening as I exchange a look with Edo and Nat. It hits me that Alexis is nowhere to be found.

We aren't the only ones startled—the entire viewing erupts into chaos. Guests surge forward from the sitting room, suits and black dresses swirling. Flashes of silver pistols emerge from suit coats. Panicked shouts and the clack of high heels on marble fill the air as the crowd rushes toward the patio doors.

I shove through the throng, bursting out the doors to the chaos outside. What I see makes my heart nearly stop.

A waterlogged Alexis is treading water in the pool, a thrashing toddler clutched against her chest. The child's earsplitting wails slice through the air as he flails in Alexis's arms.

"Emilio!" A woman's scream, laced with primal terror, cuts through the panic.

I'm going to have a fucking heart attack.

It's Louisa Santiago—wife to the heir to the Santiago crime family. Her husband and heir to the Santiagos, Carlos, is hot on her heels, his face drained of color.

The gathered crowd parts like the Red Sea as the couple barrels toward the pool. Carlos and Louisa reach the water's edge just as Alexis hefts the soaked child up with a grunt.

Louisa seizes her son, pulling him into a fierce embrace as great, racking sobs shake her entire frame. Carlos wraps his arms tightly around them both, lips pressed to his wife and child's brows in fervent thanks.

There's a beat of heavy silence from the assembled onlookers before the questions start.

"What happened?"

"Is the boy okay?"

"Who's that woman?"

I grab a towel and toss it to Alexis as she hauls herself out of the pool, dripping wet. She deftly catches it, wrapping it around her trembling form.

"What the fuck just happened?" My low growl cuts through the clamor. She was supposed to stay undetected, and now she's the fucking center of attention.

She shoots me a withering look, shoving her sodden hair out of her face. "I just saved a child's life," she hisses.

The words had no sooner left her mouth than Louisa Santiago is upon us, Carlos right behind her. Louisa's face is streaked with tears, but her eyes shine with profound gratitude as she looks at Alexis.

"Thank you," she breathes, clutching the toddler tightly to her chest, not caring about the rapidly growing wet spot on her expensive gown. "Thank you for saving my baby." She steps forward and throws her arms around Alexis, holding her close for a lingering moment before pulling back.

Carlos places a hand on Louisa's back, his eyes finding Alexis's. "What's your name?"

I hold my breath, hoping against hope that Alexis sticks to her cover. For the love of fucking God, do this goddamn right.

There's the slightest pause before Alexis replies, her voice admirably steady. "Maria. I'm Don Iacopelli's cousin."

I could fucking collapse right now, and from the looks on Nat and Edo's faces, they are two seconds away from doing the same.

Carlos extends a hand, taking Alexis's in his and pressing his lips to her knuckles in an old-world gesture.

"Maria, we owe you a debt that can never be repaid." His voice is thick with emotion. "You saved my son's life. Anything you need, it's yours."

I can barely believe what's unfolding before me. The Santiagos—the most powerful fucking crime family in Milwaukee and the goddamn Midwest—have rebuffed my attempts at an alliance for years.

And now, because of Alexis's quick thinking, that's changed. Carlos Santiago is known for getting his uncle to change his mind on decisions.

I stare at Alexis with a newfound admiration as Carlos and Louisa continue lavishing praise upon her. I quickly usher her away before any of the other guests can approach with prying questions about the mysterious "Maria".

As we retreat inside, I spy Nat deep in conversation with Alfonso Santiago, the current Don of the family. I wonder what's being said, but my focus remains squarely on a shivering, coughing Alexis. Steering her to a side room, I drape a fresh towel over her shoulders as her teeth chatter. I begin to gently towel off her dripping hair, pins falling to the floor, my movements almost tender.

Moments later, Nat enters the room with Edo in tow. There's an expression of shock on Nat's face.

"Alfonso just told me…" she begins, then trails off with a disbelieving shake of her head. "After ‘Maria' rescued little Emilio, he says anything we want—within reason—will be granted by his Family, including an alliance."

I still, the towel slipping from my fingers as the weight of Nat's words sinks in.

"He wants to meet with you soon," she continues, a smile spreading across her face. "To hash things out properly."

A slow grin spreads across my face. I turn to Alexis, giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze as elation blooms in my chest.

"You hear that?" I ask, my voice slightly awed. "You just handed us the keys to the kingdom on a silver fucking platter."

The plane ride back to Chicago is a silent one, but my thoughts are anything but quiet. My mind keeps drifting back to Alexis—the way her soaked dress had clung to her curves as she emerged from the pool, the fierce determination blazing in her eyes as she hissed that she'd saved a child's life.

She'll be a tremendous asset, I muse. If only I can fucking figure out a way to get The Brotherhood off her trail for good.

As soon as we arrive home and settle back in, I seek Alexis out. Pushing open her door, I stop short when I see her in a bathrobe, toweling off her damp hair. The sight sends an unexpected jolt through me.

I clear my throat, and Alexis jumps, her eyes growing wide as she turns to face me, a hand on her heart.

"Jesus, Damian," she whispers as she relaxes. "You scared the shit out of me."

I wink at her. "Best to keep you on your toes that way." I clear my throat again. Goddamn, why am I so nervous?

"How would you feel about going on a date with me tonight?"

Her entire face seems to brighten at my words, and I pointedly ignore how my heart stutters in my chest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a smile.

"Great. Get ready, then," I toss over my shoulder, already turning on my heel to leave. I have plans to make.

"You sure that's wise?" an exasperated voice says as I shut the door.

I whirl around, hand already reaching in my suit jacket for my gun, but I relax slightly when I see Edo standing in front of me, arms crossed against his burly chest.

"Goddamn, Edo," I snarl, my heart beating a staccato. "Don't sneak up on me. I nearly shot you."

Edo rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible shooter anyway, Damian." His face turns serious, though. "Are you seriously taking Alexis out of this house to a restaurant in this city? There's a manhunt going on for her."

I shoot Edo a quelling look, irritated that he's questioning my decision. "Mind your fucking business, Edo."

He opens his mouth like he wants to argue further, then seems to think better of it. I don't stick around to find out. I have a reservation to make.

A few hours later, I'm holding the door open to the car for Alexis as she slides inside. She looks stunning in a deep green dress that brings out the golden flecks in her eyes.

"Where are we going?" she asks. The smell of her perfume is intoxicating.

"Basil and Olive," I reply, unable to resist stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye. She's a vision in that dress, her hair slightly pulled back as one curl tumbles over her collar bone.

When we arrive at the restaurant, I inhale deeply as we enter its doors. Alexis, on my arm, gasps as we enter the main dining room. Basil and Olive has an atmosphere of nostalgia and timeless elegance. The dimly lit interior casts a warm glow over the polished mahogany tables draped with crisp white tablecloths, creating an intimate ambiance that seems to harken back to a bygone era.

The walls are adorned with black-and-white photographs of Italian landscapes, vintage posters, and framed newspaper clippings, hinting at the restaurant's rich history and storied past. Soft jazz music plays softly in the background, adding to the allure of the place.

"I've always wanted to go here," Alexis muses as she sits down in her seat, her face alight with joy. "I've heard it's so good."

"The best," I confirm, already telling the waiter to bring a bottle of wine. "I come here often. Their lasagna is to die for."

Alexis's smile gets even wider as she reviews the menu, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

The meal is a jovial affair, filled with laughter and effortless conversation. I've never been able to connect with someone this way before.

As the evening wears on, I find myself letting my guard down in a way I rarely ever do.

"You know, this life…" I say at one point, toying with my wine glass. "It's not an easy one. The blood, the fear, the constant looking over your shoulder. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it, too. The power, the respect, the adrenaline rush."

I meet her gaze steadily. "It's in my veins, Alexis. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"No?" Alexis's brow furrows at my words, clear disturbance flashing across her pretty features. "You'd never consider leaving this life behind?"

I scoff dismissively. The thought has never crossed my mind. "Of course not. I was born into this world, and I'll die in it. It's in my blood."

Alexis worries her lower lip between her teeth, and I arch an eyebrow. Something's bothering her about what I just said. "What is it? What's on your mind?"

For a long moment, she's silent, clearly weighing her words carefully. "I just… this life, Damian. The violence, the fear, the constant threat of death. Can you really stomach bringing someone else into that permanently?" Her gaze is earnest, almost pleading. "Isn't there a part of you that dreams of something… more?"

Her questions make me pause, my mind immediately spinning to dark places. I've only ever dreamed of becoming Don of the Iacopellis, nothing more. Even Nat has never dreamed for more, or if she has, she's never told me. We know our place in this life, and we belong to the Family.

But we grew up in this world and know it intimately. Could Alexis truly handle the visceral realities of being with me, of being part of the Iacopelli family? She's proven to be tough, but there's still an air of naivete about her, a lightness that this bloody life so often snuffs out.

Am I really willing to risk that for my own selfish desires? Could I ask a woman only used to violence to willingly spend the rest of her life in more violence?

I manage a tight smile, quickly steering the conversation into safer waters before Alexis can notice the direction of my thoughts. Thankfully, our entrees arrive at that moment and the waiter sets down a steaming plate of lasagna in front of her.

She takes a bite and her eyes flutter close in pure bliss. "Oh, my God, Damian," she murmurs once she'd swallowed. "This is the best lasagna I've ever had in my life."

A smug grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. "I know," I reply, leaning back in my seat confidently. "It's one of the reasons I love this place so much. When it comes to culinary tastes, I'm never wrong."

She lets out an audible scoff, though her eyes are sparkling with amusement. "But maturity lies in knowing when to let a moron be wrong."

That teasing remark startles a laugh out of me, reverberating through my entire frame. If anyone else would have said that to me, I would have ended them. But Alexis's delivery was just too perfect.

Her face splits in a wide, beaming smile at the noise, bright enough to figuratively stop my heart in my chest.

Goddamn, she has the most beautiful smile, I think somewhat dumbly. It transforms her entire face, brings a radiant warmth to her eyes that I can easily see myself getting lost in.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to regain my composure as warmth blooms in my cheeks. "What can I say?" I admit wryly. "I am, after all, a man of exceptional taste."

Alexis smiles again and bends her head to take another bite of her food. As she does, my gaze lands on a familiar figure standing in the dining room entrance, her hair cascading down her back in red waves.

Scarlett Rafa.

I feel my stomach plummet as our eyes lock across the distance, and a wicked smile settles over Scarlett's mouth.

Fuck.